Id known Poppy since we were children, and wed always talked about tying the knot someday.
My mother, Margaret Whitmore, ran the maternity ward at St.Barnabas Hospital. She never liked my choice. Shed always favoured a nurse called Claire, a wellliked girl from a family of doctors, and she hoped Id end up with her instead.
After school I went to medical school, while Poppy enrolled in a foreignlanguage college to become an English translator, following in her mothers and grandmothers footsteps. Our friends thought it would be nice to celebrate our next steps in the countryside, so we all spent a month at my familys old country cottage in the Cotswolds. We were reluctant to leave, but lectures were due to start, and we had to get ready.
One crisp autumn evening Poppy said to me:
Im pregnant. How will you take it?
What do you think? Of course Ill whisk you off to the register office, I replied, joking.
Im not light, Im heavy.
Scare a sportsman? I used to wrestle at school. Youre as light as a feather to me, I laughed.
What about our studies?
About the studies, love. Looks like youll need a year off after the baby.
Ill switch to distance learning, like my mum did. She had me at nineteen and managed everything. But lets be clear, Phil, after were married youll move in with us. Keep your distance from my mother. Ive known shell never accept me shes a character.
Only for your peace of mind, love, I agreed.
Poppy and I filed our notice at the register office and then went our separate ways. Poppys flat was full of guests. One of her fathers mates arrived with his wife and their son Alex, a lanky sixteenyearold.
Back at my place I told my parents about the upcoming wedding. Margaret was not pleased and, that evening, she marched over to Poppys parents house to cause a scene. She rang the doorbell repeatedly, but no one answered. They were setting the table in the lounge, music playing, and didnt hear the chime. Alex was taking a shower at the time and, hearing nothing, wrapped a towel round his waist and opened the door.
Margaret stood there, momentarily stunned, then pulled out her phone, hit record, and began filming the hallway, the towelclad Alex in the frame.
Are you here to see Mrs. Anne? Alex asked, puzzled by the phones movement.
Not any more, Margaret hurried down the stairs.
Later she showed me the clip, pointing out how long it took Alex to answer.
Do you recognise the hallway? Still no idea who Poppys carrying.
I get it, mum. You were right. She isnt the one for me.
I sent an angry text to Poppy, then switched my phone off. She didnt understand, but she kept trying to reach me, even late at night.
I guessed shed come to my door for answers, so I watched her from the window. When she appeared, I rushed to the door myself, opened it, and stepped onto the landing, refusing her entry.
What do you want from Philip? Hes already in bed. And you, playing both sides? Keep flirting with other blokes, you twofaced wretch, I snapped, then slammed the door behind me and went back to my flat.
Poppy was bewildered, tears spilling onto the stair. After a while she went home. In the kitchen, her mother Helen was washing up, and Poppy collapsed into her arms.
Darling, the weddings coming up. You should be happy.
Mom, theres nothing left now except that Im carrying his child. His mother stirred up trouble after she learned wed applied for marriage, Poppy sobbed, showing her mother the angry message Id sent.
If Philip behaves like this, hell always bow to his mother. Gods kept him away from you. Well raise the child ourselves, Helen tried to soothe her.
The breakup left Poppy devastated, and her pregnancy turned difficult. She was rushed to the maternity ward while her parents were at work. She delivered under anaestheticthe only safe optionbut the baby was stillborn. After the paperwork, the tiny body was handed to the parents, and they laid him to rest. Poppy, still in the ward, missed the funeral.
Soon after, my parents sold the flat and moved away.
Its for the best, love. You had a messy runin with Philip, and he just walked off with that haughty look, Helen said.
I hope, Mum, Ill forget him sooner, Poppy replied.
Eight years later, Poppy was translating for a modest firm when I walked into her office.
Why are you back in my life? Ive long since forgotten you.
Im sorry, but tragedy brought me back.
Thats a strange thing to say, Phil. Youve got a lovely mum. Talk to her about your woes. Ive no time for you. Please leave.
I beg you, Poppy, listen. It matters to you too. Ill wait at the café across the street after work.
Ill only come out of curiosity, Poppy said, eyes fixed on her screen, signalling the end of the conversation.
That evening we met outside the café.
Im sorry, Poppy, but my son is ill and needs a donor.
Youve got the wrong address, Philip. My mothers got more resources around here.
Weve been waiting, and theres no donor. Ive even put my flat on the market. Youre a motheryou stand a better chance of helping our son.
Youre joking, Philip? Our son was stillborn. My parents buried him.
Hes alive, eight now.
How?
Remember the day we lodged our marriage notice?
Ill never forget your nasty text.
I repeated what my mother had told me about the night shed seen me in the corridor with a stretcher. Poppy explained who Alex was, and my face turned ashen. I still loved her, and Id never married. Shed stayed single, fearing another loss.
Phil, tell me about your son. What did your mother do?
When you were in the ward, my mother saw you being wheeled to the operating theatre. She guessed I was the father, ran a test, it proved it, but she didnt want to give you the child. Im to blame for agreeing to that. My grudge haunted me. Gods repaid me; our son Samuel is ill.
Lets get him tested for compatibility. If Im not a match, then he must share my blood type, which is O.
Yes, Phil, Im Bpositive.
My hands shook as I entered the clinics ward and saw the boy.
Samuel, Ive finally found your mother. Weve been lost a long time, but people have helped us meet, I said, while Poppy could only stare.
Mom, Ive been waiting for you. I imagined you like this, even though we dont have any pictures of you at home, Samuel whispered.
Son, everything will be all right. Im here and will do whatever it takes to make you well, Poppy burst into tears, hugging him.
The doctor says youre a match, Samuel. Hell be fine, I told them. The treatment worked. I sold the remaining property and settled the clinics bill. Now we live together in a modest flat above Poppys parents house.
Poppy, forgive me. We need to marry, and you should have another child. I want our son healthy, but his doctor says siblings make better donors than parents.
Ive read that, Phil. For the sake of our children, Im ready for anything.
We married, and besides Samuel we now raise two more childrena boy and a girlhappy at last.